Sloe Gin
by LynnAgate
Summary: Alec seeks punishment and comfort after a mission gone wrong. Standalone. Disclaimer: Dark Angel is owned by James Cameron and Charles H. Eglee. For entertainment purposes only.


It was a crappy mission. Alec had been brought in too late, after all the damage had already been done, and there was no way to repair the situation. Tactically, the best option was to retreat, and in doing so, save as many lives as they could.

But Ryder had been caught in the firefight, and even though Alec had risked his own life to carry Ryder out, Ryder had paid the ultimate price for his squadron's mistakes.

Watching him take his last breath had been harrowing. The sputter of his red, red blood, the choking and gasping as he drowned from the inside out, the loss of verve from the X5's usually vibrant blue eyes, it had taken a toll on Alec's patience, and he had laid Ryder's death thickly on the squadron. _It's not a fucking game you're playing,_ he had half-lectured, half-screamed.

Overcome with anger and grief, Alec let his heavy legs carry him to High Tides, a bar in Sector 7, where he tried his damnedest to drown the image of Ryder's jerking, spasming, stuttering body out of his mind. Drink after drink after drink, he sat there, never taking off his leather jacket, never getting up from the stool, never making eye contact with anyone.

Skintight silk slunk into his peripheral, dark skin begging for attention; dark skin in the form of long, slender legs and more-than ample cleavage and fuckin' peep-toe heels, the scent of a night of divided legs and a deep abyss of tightness rolling off of her in waves. She wanted to fuck him, he could feel it. _Not tonight._

Before he had half the nerve to accept, Alec laid out his billfold for the tender and let himself out into the cold, crisp night. Moisture sat heavy on the air and he could feel the heartbeat of the oncoming rain.

Head down, eyes squinted, he wandered the streets until after two, fists balled in the pockets of his open jacket, barely aware of the forces around him: people, cars, businesses shutting down.

He heard a young woman calling out for help, and it had shaken him out of his closed state. He ran into the alley and before he understood it, his fists were repeatedly beating against the face of a young man. He had continued, even after the young man's face mirrored Ryder's, until the young woman, crying and using all of her strength to pull at just one of Alec's arms, spit out for him to stop. The young man was her boyfriend, and he wasn't hurting her. He wasn't a threat, _and what the fuck is wrong with you?_

Alec raised himself up, realizing he'd nearly beaten an innocent young man to death. _Sorry,_ he'd said. _I don't know what I – who -_ , and began running.

The rain was coming down in sheets, the heartbeat of this monster echoing in Alec's body as his boots pounded the black pavement and the water shined into a blurry surface.

He climbed up several flights of fire escape stairs and marveled at how, when he knocked on her bedroom window, the redness from his stinging knuckles smeared with the rain and succumbed to gravity. He peered through the window and cried out, a guttural groan of frustration so low he wondered how deep it'd been buried. She wasn't there.

He heard it. The body getting out of the tub. The bathroom door opened and suddenly she was rushing toward him, tying her robe and closing her bedroom door. She pulled up on the window frame with haste. Staring at him, staring into him, he felt panic overtake him, and then the pane budged and opened.

He wasn't sure what to say.

Max felt like a mirrored image of him. Soaked, alone, needing. Her heart broke when he told her he wasn't sure who he was anymore. On the verge of total breakdown, Alec hung his head, the rain streaming down his face in tiny rivulets.

Max reached out past the dry barrier of her window sill and pulled gently at his hand.

Slowly, Alec climbed into her room. It was dark except for one of the streetlights, which shined minimal light into the room, reflecting in her eyes.

Staring at his pupils, enlarged from the darkness, Max peeled the lapels of his jacket apart and off of his arms, letting it fall to the threadbare carpet. She moved to his long-sleeved shirt, pulling it up, bringing his undershirt with it, until he raised his arms to help remove the articles heavy from rain. Her movement became quicker, her fingers sweeping down his chest to his jeans, where she made fast work of the button and zipper. He moved in sync with her, toeing off his boots, so that by the time she was pushing his jeans and boxers down, he was bending to remove his socks.

Roughly, she pulled him toward her, circling him around so he landed on her bed. Wasting no time, she straddled him, his hands finding her smooth, warm legs at his sides, and sank into his lap, pushing her wetness around him in one fluid movement.

In a heady rush of arousal, Max began lifting herself up and slamming back down around him, her motions getting rougher and rougher. Alec found the tie of her robe and pulled the belt loose, gritting his teeth as she clamped hard around his shaft. He ripped open her robe and kneaded her breasts, pinching her nipples hard, twisting the nubs between his fingers as he heard her cries of pain and pleasure. It was all he could hear. It was all he would hear.

He could give her this.

He sat up, grasping her body tightly, pressing her against him as he circled his lips around her nipple, teasing the button of it with the tip of his tongue and the edges of his teeth until she screamed out from the madness of his control and complete loss of hers.

Their breaths came out ragged and frequent and as Max clawed at his back, he pressed his teeth in bites along her neck and breastbone. She was tightening around him, her climax building, and he clamped his hands on her hips, pressing into her as deep as he could, the base of his sex rubbing her clit, building the friction until finally she lost control and came. Alec pulled her by the neck to capture her screams with a crushing kiss, their teeth knocking lightly together as his tongue mirrored the French kiss happening below.

Max bit into his lip, and his instincts kicked in right away as he bit hers back. They savored the coppery mixture it produced.

His depth and rhythm and friction made her orgasm last three times a long, while her whines and the vibrations of her screams ripped through him, making him come hard. As their orgasms gradually dwindled, they each eased the rhythm until Max stopped her rocking.

He understood why she had stilled – she thought he was spent. Slowly, he started lifting her up and down around his still-hard member. Her eyes widened in surprise, and then she closed her eyes to his deep, languid thrusts.

She took this one lucid moment to remove her robe and toss it toward the pile of Alec's clothes, then lost herself in his movement.

He didn't want to lose her, the connection he felt when she stared into him. In one sudden movement, he sat up, lifted her as he brought his knees under him, and reversed their positions so she was on her back with his lean body holding her down.

She had opened her eyes at the switch, and as he began the same rhythm which led to her orgasm, her eyes rolled back in bliss. He pounded into her, but, distracted by her closed eyes, slowed down. Pumping into her slowly, Alec leaned on his elbows and brought both palms to her cheeks, brushing renegade strands of hair from her temples so he could see her face. She opened her eyes again, noticing how desperately he needed the eye contact, and despite how deeply he seemed to work her to the heights of oblivion, she kept her eyes open, glued to his.

His brows turned up in concern, or maybe it was pain, she wasn't sure, and he returned to fucking her as roughly as she intimated, pressing her body against his as he pressed hers into the mattress. He filled and massaged her so completely that she felt her orgasm thrumming through her whole body and fought to keep her eyes open so he could see she knew exactly who was responsible for it.

Her screams urged him on, and like a crushing wave, he came with a beautifully animalistic growl, a growl for which Max felt responsible, for which she was proud.

Alec slipped out of her carefully and collapsed to his back on her bed. The two remained quiet for a long time, both haunted by their own personal demons, until the demons quieted down and they fell into a restless slumber.

It was only an hour until Max woke him with a gentle massaging of his shaft. He came to attention and woke very quickly, and looked to her face in the darkness. He wanted to ask what she was doing, but seeing her lustful eyes caused him loss of language. It was still raining, and still cold (he could tell by both their sets of nipples), and he realized the window was still open, this time providing a steady, calming soundtrack.

Again, Max swung a leg over his abdomen and lowered herself onto him, using her tight canal to massage him slowly. His hands crept to her hips and he closed his eyes, reveling in her beauty, her animal, her sex.

Bringing her hands to his face, Max gently caressed it until he opened his eyes. The warm hazel stare – the one for which she'd been waiting since he climbed through her window – stared back into her. She rocked back and forth slowly, swirled her hips in half circles, and rubbed his chest gently, pushing him down with the softness of her palms as if in suggestion.

 _Stay._

She pulled at his forearms, inching his arms up until his hands and fingers moved feather light over her breasts and nipples.

Surprised by how much he enjoyed her deliberate, slow movements, Alec moved his hips in tune and against hers, trying to incite the screams he had heard an hour before.

Bending to lay her torso against his, Max kissed him, her tongue darting out for him to let her in, and when he did, he felt a calmness wash over him, and just as she could feel his heartbeat through her chest, Alec felt hers coursing through his body, lending its strength to him. They came together again, slowly and sweetly.

With his arm around her and Max's head on his chest, they lay there, silently, awake. Max dragged her fingertips over a two-inch laceration between his ribs in the later stages of scarring. She'd been there when he'd been stabbed. He was saving a kid – a human kid – from potential demise. The offender had caught Alec off guard and buried four inches of steel between Alec's ribs. After that, Alec was merciless. Wouldn't be long now until even the scar turned into just a memory.

She pulled his arm across his stomach and caressed the raw skin at his knuckles. It was tender but didn't hurt him, at least not physically.

Craning her head to look into his eyes, Max pulled his hand up to her face, pushing his palm against her cheek. She blinked slowly into the warmth and comfort, then opened her eyes as she pushed his thumb against her lip, sore from his bite.

Giving him a half smile, she pulled his hand further down, until she cupped his hand over her naked breast.

Alec watched her with sincerity, excited physically and emotionally by this admission. He moved his fingertips over her breastbone in a place she'd been stabbed, but whose scar had faded, then further down to a scar on her stomach from two months ago, when she'd been shot. It was only starting to dissipate.

They'd saved lives and been injured and healed, and always persevered. It was who they were. Mistakes were part of those scars.

Finally, Max turned his hand the other direction, causing him to roll onto his side facing her, and ran his palm over her abdomen and pelvic bone until she pushed his middle finger against her opening. It was warm and wet, and his mouth fell open as he grew harder.

Max pulled at his shoulders, flattening one leg so he could position himself between both of her legs. He moved his finger inside of her, causing a painfully pleasured look to wash over her face. Her eyes rolled back, and when he removed his finger, she returned her stare to his.

Pulling him into her, Max pushed her head into the pillow at his deep thrust, holding his eye contact.

He had wanted to be used, to prove he was useful, but she made him feel worthy.

He was not alone.


End file.
